Don't look at me.

I went to yoga class yesterday. I got there kind of early, so I had to stand around for a few minutes before I was allowed to go in the room (it's held in a room at a very large gym facility).

I wonder sometimes if I should take some kind of tranquilizer before going to the gym. While that may seem counterintuitive, the intent is that I could go to the gym and simply exercise without being visually hyperstimulated by the crowds of gym bunnies and meatheads flailing around on elaborate pieces of machinery.

The closest I can get to such a state of blissful ignorance is visual ignorance; i.e., not wearing my contacts. All the details of bright, reflective footgear, and ruddy, sweat-smeared faces aren't clear enough to distract me.

Also, there's nowhere to look when you're just standing there at the gym. Look to the right, and there's a legion of thirtysomethings on the stairmasters and rowing machines. Look to the left, and there's some dame doing her pre-yoga warm-up stretches. She's already got her shoes off and everything. How can ya walk around a gym barefoot? Like, "I am sooo spiritually centered that I want to be one with the energy of a thousand bodies sweating in unison."

There's something so vulnerable and intimate about seeing people exercise. I sure-as-pectoralis major can't do it, and darn if I want anyone watching me, either. I think it's sort of voyeuristic.

Taking actual classes at Das Gymnasium doesn't make me feel as violated, though. In the enclosed yoga room, nobody's there except for to take the class. We're all just a group of bendy chicks in awkward positions that render us unable to look anywhere except the backs of our knees.

Also, no cute guys in yoga. Ever. Thank God.